At Least There Will Be Plenty Implied
by flotsam-junk
Summary: Elsa discovers that ice can soothe and warm, all at once.


A/N: I feel a little self-conscious posting this, because I'm not in this fandom and I don't even ship these 2. And I'm _sure_ this isn't an original idea, so it's pretty cheesy. But the lyrics to "Baby It's Cold Outside" lend themselves beautifully to this setting and characters, especially since Elsa has all kinds of social anxieties and aversions to physical contact. All the dialogue is either straight-up song lyrics, or altered lyrics that still match the beat. I genuinely hope this is enjoyable for you Frozen fans.

xoxo

* * *

"I...really can't stay."

She broke the silence with a crash, fervently wishing she hadn't granted her own selfish desire to finally follow the call of his voice on the wind. This had been a mistake. Of _course_ it had.

His powder-blue eyes widened, a burst of cornflower light glimmering in confusion.

"I've got to go...away." she concluded lamely, a desperate plea for understanding from...him? Or her? It had taken so long for her to decipher his summons, to interpret the subtle shifts of ice and snow where only she could see, and yet their first (_and certainly last_ her mind supplied unhelpfully) encounter was over at first glance.

He continued to stare, their chests nearly grazing each other, his knee leaning in to greet hers.

Their proximity was too close. Snakes coiled and unfurled in her gut, nipping at her toes with an urgency to _move, get away_. She turned on her heel, feeling her cape hug the top layer of flurries and fling them in a swirl behind her. The familiar anchor pitted at the bottom of her stomach bubbled to the surface as "_no, don't, you can't_" sang through her head, pulsating its mantra.

Pressure gripped her wrist before she could pull her hands protectively to her side, and she paused in instinctive panic.

"This evening has been so very nice." His voice breezed past her cheek, soft and cool and smooth as glaciers. His teeth peeked, pearlescent, beneath the blue tinge of his lips; the hint of a smile overpowering the whistle of the mountain.

Against every siren screaming in her head, she turned back around as he pulled her wrist to his chest. His crooked staff stood of its own accord as his other hand slowly, so slowly, reached for hers, which suddenly felt singed and exposed without her gloves. She rubbed her lips together with barely-concealed anxiety.

"My sister will start to worry" she tried again. His eyes remained transfixed on smoothing his thumbs over her knuckles. "The guardsmen, they'll be pacing the floor." At the thought of the palace, dark and shuttered and awaiting her return, her stomach swooped and plummeted.

She wrenched her head away from the hypnosis of his milky fingers now tracing the bones atop her hand, and gazed outwardly towards Arendelle. Weak irises of golden lantern light from town were barely visible through the haze of the mountain and the specks of ice dancing careless pirouettes in the storm. _Me, me, this was all me, my fault, my fault _the mantra boomed in time to her racing heart. She sniffed, willing down the familiar swell of tears. "The kingdom's caught in a flurry" she observed weakly.

Her hands met the foreign feel of cheekbone as he rubbed the base of her fingers along his face, beside his temples, along the trail of his jaw. The unfamiliar sensation of skin-to-skin contact sent a rare shiver down her arms, and she awaited the realization her numbed skin invited. Hot cords of anxiety flailed in her stomach, and the mantra venomously whispered "_flee, queen, flee, run once more_." She ached with refusal, rooting her feet into the snow, convinced to hear it for herself.

But his face transformed at the feel of her fingers, not with caution or disdain, but with a wonder so fitting to those impish storm-blue eyes. The corners of his mouth slid apart to reveal that shimmering smile, his head cocked towards his shoulder in a clear inquiry.

"My Queen, your hands - they're just like _ice_!" And he purred out the last word with nothing short of reverence, his face angled down and his eyebrows dancing above his eyes. He placed a deft kiss to her knuckles, and something rumbled to a halt within her.

The sudden warmth was overwhelming, trailing every vein and artery and nestling deep within her marrow. Her jaw quivered as she attempted a smile herself, still realizing the shock of someone who stayed. She breathed a gulp of chilly air, murmuring "No one's ever touched _me_ before..."

Something like mischief ran through his face, and the pressure left her hands to crawl along her arms. He gripped her elbows with gentle firmness, welcoming her closer, and the mantra in her mind was ushered to an abrupt silence. She acquiesced, taking half a step towards him, just enough for his lips to align with the crown of her head. She could feel the movement of his jaw push and pull as he spoke. "I hope you'll let me do it some more."

And for the first time - in _forever_ - she felt embraced by the cold, the winter, and the arms against her shoulders. She gave a silent thanks to the voice on the mountain.


End file.
